Maple and Sunflowers
by Slytherin Head
Summary: Canada has just been given the most important mission of his life. He just hopes to finish it alive.
1. Death sentence

_Disclaimer - I don't own Hetalia! If I did, there'd be more Gertalia and RusCan...MOOOAAAARRRR!_

_A/N - This is my first Hetalia fic. I hope you all enjoy it. If not then I'll take it down because it'll be a waste of space. If you guys do like it, then I'll try to make the chapters longer. This hasn't been beta'd so please forgive any mistakes you see. If you would like to beta for me, then please send me a PM._

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 1 – Death sentence<strong>

"Aw, man! Dude, bro'! You have got to have the worst luck in, like, the entire universe!"

Matthew could only listen as his brother, Alfred, went on and on about how the whole world was against his little brother and that he was going to be the hero and rescue...that person that was somehow related to him. It seemed Alfred couldn't even remember his brother's name long enough to say that he was going to save him from what was sure to be a horrible death.

"It's really not that bad, is it?" Matthew asked. But of course, Alfred didn't even hear him. No one ever did.

Looking around the room, he noticed that the other nations were talking to one another trying to make plans for the next meeting. Which was really just Germany going around the room telling people what time they had to be at the next meeting and what he expected from them. Of course, this was made more difficult for Germany as Northern Italy was hugging him around the waist, making it difficult for the strict man to walk.

Looking back at the small paper in his hands, Matthew noticed his small furry friend staring at him from underneath the conference table. "Mr. Kunijiro? What do you think?" he asked his small polar bear friend.

"Who are you?" the small bear asked.

"Ca-na-da. I'm your owner."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes! You live with me in my home. I give you food."

"Oh, that's right. Can I have breakfast?"

"But, it's way past breakfast time."

"Who are you?"

With a small sigh, he picked up the small bear and left the conference room. Another meeting had passed and no one had listened to a single word he had said. Not even his Papa had paid attention to him when he asked him to pass the agenda for the meeting after Germany had accidentally walked right by him when the meeting had started. Not being noticed by anyone was starting to get depressing.

And now, the worst thing that could have happened, had. It was a month before Christmas and the G8 had decided on having a Secret Santa party. Somehow, with his amazing luck, he had drawn out Russia's name. He was so going to die.

"What exactly am I suppose to get him?" he said to himself. He didn't know much about the violet-eye nation. Well, except that he liked Vodka and for some reason was always sitting on him. Maybe he could get Russia a chair that had the Russian flag on it? Naw, he doubted it would work.

Walking through the halls, Matthew couldn't help but wonder who had gotten his name. He knew his name had been put in because all eight of the nations had gotten a piece of paper with the name of their "victim", as Alfred has so eloquently put it. Though, he wouldn't put it past his Papa to have sneak his name in twice just to get some "extra love" as he would say. He just hoped that whoever had gotten his name, wouldn't forget about him. Sometimes he would get presents from Alfred, but those had been few as the years passed by. His Papa and Dad hadn't given him anything in years, either. But they always remembered to give something to his brother, be it a bottle of the best French wine or a new tea set for when there was company to entertain.

Stopping outside the main doors of the Conference building, he leaned against the open door for a couple of minutes looking at the small clouds that were passing through the sky. There was so much work for him to do and he didn't know how he was going to get it all done, not to mention finding a present for Russia. Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, he walked out the doors letting Mr. Kumajiro run off ahead of him.

Oh, well, at least he had a month to figure out a present for Russia. Or at least a month to make sure a proper will is written.


	2. No use crying over spilled milk

_Disclaimer - I do not own it. None! POR QUE!_

_A/N - Yay, people liked this story. I hope I don't disappoint you all now. (No pressure right?). And just like I promised, this chapter is longer! _This hasn't been beta'd so please forgive any mistakes you see. If you would like to beta for me, then please send me a PM.__

__Enjoy!__

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter two – No use crying over spilled milk!<strong>

Rain, he loved the rain. The way it cleared up the air; fed all the plants and animals, and just seemed to cleanse the world.

Rain, he loved the rain. Just not when it was pouring right down on him with cold winds. All he had to protect him was his favorite green hoodie. No umbrella or raincoat for him. Mr. Kumajiro was safely nestled withing the front pocket of his hoodie, sleeping. As long as the little bear didn't get wet he would be happy.

Matthew would be even happier, if he could make it to the super market. He was low on pancake mix and food for Kumajiro and had no other choice but to venture outside. It had been a lovely morning, not a cloud in sight and before he knew it, it was pouring rain. He should have read the morning paper like he had originally planed to do. But he usually did that while he ate a nice batch of pancakes. And since he had no pancakes, then there wasn't a chance for him to read the newspaper.

No pancakes = all other activities to be stopped.

No food for Kumajiro = a bitten hand.

All in all, it wasn't turning out to be a good day.

"Who?" He heard the small voice of ask.

"Canada!"

"Sure, why not?"

Realizing that the small polar bear was sleep talking, Matthew started to softly laugh. It usually bothered him when his own pet didn't know who he was. But he knew the poor bear was hungry and that the only way for him to forget his grumbling tummy was to sleep. He wished he could go to sleep just like too, but then they would still be in the same mess. Better to do what he needed now, than be in a foul mood for not doing it sooner.

Finally reaching the super market, Matthew grabbed a shopping cart and sat Mr. Kumajiro down in the toddler seat. The bear simply curled up into a small ball and went back to sleep. Matthew knew he would wake up as soon as they reached the fish aisle so he didn't bother trying to keep him awake.

Deciding he might as well get everything else he needed so he didn't need to keep coming back, he went to the vegetable aisle first. He felt like making some banana bread for Al, he knew his brother loved it almost most as much as the traditional American apple pie. Maybe after that he could make his Papa some éclairs , he was sure the French-man would love them.

After getting the bananas and some vegetables, he moved over to the other aisle looking the milk and eggs. As he was grabbing the milk he collided with someone else, causing him to drop the jug on the floor. "Maple, look at this mess!"

"Ve~ I'm _so_ sorry, I tripped and lost my balance. I didn't mean to crash into you. Please, don't hurt me, I promise to clean up the mess. You don't have to worry about anything. I'll even buy you the milk myself, JUST PLEASE DON'T KILL ME!"

Matthew could only stare as he watched Northern Italy freak out and talk at what he could only guess was the speed of light. He knew it was Norther Italy because had it been Southern Italy, he was sure it would be raining tomatoes on him. Sometimes, he still didn't understand how those two were related.

"Uhm, Italy?"

Looking at him with tears in his eyes, Italy stopped trying to clean the floor (with his jacket) and stoop up. "Are you a country?" he asked in a whisper and looking around to make sure no one heard them.

"I'm Canada."

Italy was now looking at him with confusion in his eyes as he tried to remember who Canada was. Finally, after a couple of minutes, realization dawned on him and he finally remembered who the man standing before him was. "Ve~! That's right! I really am sorry you know."

Smiling softly, Matthew said, "It's fine, I should have been paying more attention anyhow, instead of just going off into my own little world." Looking at the cart next to the Italian, he saw that the man had filled it with different packages of pasta. He didn't even know the store carried so many different sorts of pasta.

Seeing where Matthew was staring at, Italy laughed nervously. "I guess I might have overdone it with the pasta, no?"

"Maybe, just a tad," Matthew admitted. "But it's okay, because I do the same thing with pancakes."

The word pancakes seemed to draw out a reaction from Italy because his eyes immediately light up. "Ve~ That's why I came here! I wanted to make Ludwig pancakes tomorrow, and what better place to get the ingredients than Canada?"

"Germany likes pancakes?" Matthew asked.

"Well, we don't eat them that often, but I wanted to make something different for him. Do you think he won't like them?" Italy asked, his voice laced with worry.

"No! That's not it!" Matthew quickly said. "I'm sure he's going to love them. Especially, since it is you who's making them." He could tell that Italy was still not convinced that Germany was going to like the pancakes, so he came up with an idea. "Listen, if you want, I could help you choose the perfect ingredients so that there's nothing for him to complain about."

"If it's not too much trouble, could you help me, please?"

Nodding his head, Matthew quickly grabbed two jugs of milk and handed one to Italy. "Here, you'll need this to make them."

As the two of them made their way to get the eggs, Italy turned to Matthew and said, "By the way, you can call me Feliciano, it's my human name."

"Oh, in that case, I'm Matthew."

Smiling, Feliciano turned to look at Matthew. "Hey, you don't have to tell me, but I was wondering, whose name did you get for the Secret Santa?"

It was as if his whole body had gone into lock down, because as soon as Feliciano had spoken those words, his whole world had come crashing down on him

"_So, that's what I've been forgetting," _he thought.

"Ve~? Matthew? Are you okay?" Feliciano asked him. When he didn't answer, the Italian started to poke him in the face. " Hello? Matthew to Earth?"

"Russia." Turning to look at the brunette, Matthew repeated himself, "I have to find Russia a present."

There was a long pause of silence between the two men as they stood near the eggs. It wasn't till a woman asked them to move so she could get her tray of eggs, that they spoke. Feliciano was the first of them to say something. " Ve~ ! You're so dead."

"Waahh! Please, don't say that!"

"Well, he's not exactly big brother Francis. Who would be happy with some wine or nice clothes. If he thinks you're insulting him with your present, he'll kill you with that pipe he always carries around," Feliciano said. Tears where already forming at the thought that Matthew might be beaten to death.

"Don't you think I know that?" Matthew yelled, but to Feliciano it sounded like a normal inside voice. "But it's not like I can go up to the man and say, 'Hey, I have to get you a present for Christmas. What would you like?'"

"Why can't you do that?" Felicano asked with a tilt of his head.

"Because he'll kill me! He'll think I don't care about what I give him and I'll upset him. Then he'll get his pipe out and...Alfred will not be able to put me back together. Papa will disown me for not being good looking and Arthur...will drink his tea."

Soft giggles made him glare at the Italian man. "It's not funny," he said sadly. Looking at his watch he saw that it was almost time for lunch."Listen, let's finish up here and we can go back to my place and I'll make us something to eat."

"Pasta?" Feliciano asked excitingly.

Looking at him confused, Matthew glanced down at noticing that the small bear was awake. "What do you want to eat, Mr. Kinmijari?"

"Who?"

"Ca-na-da," he said carefully.

"Food."

"What kind of food?" Matthew asked.

"The kind you eat, silly," the small bear answered, sticking his tongue out at his master.

Sighing, Matthew pushed his glasses up and made his way through the store finishing his shopping. He wanted to show Feliciano how to make good pancakes and maybe get some ideas in what he might be able to give Russia for Christmas.

Four batches of different pancakes and lot's of dishes later, and Matthew still had no clue what he was going to get Russia. Gathering the last empty bowl, he made his way to the sink to wash all of the dirty dishes. He had a dishwasher, but he liked washing the dishes by hand because it gave him time to think.

"What am I suppose to do?" he wondered out loud.

He didn't want to go to his Papa for advice. Knowing him, he might just end up running away from France with his trousers half way down his legs and his shirt all torn up. He definitely didn't want to repeat that birthday. He sometimes still had nightmares about it, though Gilbert thought it was "awesomely hilarious".

"That's it!" he said. Quickly rinsing the other dishes and throwing them into the dishwasher, he got his cell phone out and dialed the one number he hoped would be able to help him.

"_Yo! You've reached epic awesomeness! Talk to me!"_


	3. Unexpected guest

_Disclaimer: I don't own it! If I did, I would make it mandatory for all schools to teach History using only Hetalia!_

_A/N - Goodness, I cannot tell you all how utterly sorry I am for not updating. I hope this makes up for it, and if not, please don't send Russia to my house! D :_

_Oh, before I let you read, there's a poll on my profile that some of you will find interesting. If any of you follow my other stories, the poll is about which one I should update for September. Go vote!_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 3 – Unexpected guest<strong>

"_Yo! You've reached epic awesomeness! Talk to me!"_

"Gilbert?"

"_Matthew! Buddy! About damn time you called me! I was getting so bored here in bruder's house, I almost started cleaning! DIDJA HEAR THAT? ME! CLEANING! I'm too awesome to be doing that kind of stuff. So how about you, me and some kick ass beer get together to watch a good game of hockey?"_

"Uhm..."

"_Perfect!" _Matthew could hear the sounds of the phone being put down and Gilbert's footsteps as the albino waked away from it. "_West! I'm taking your car, I'll be back later tonight. Or you can just come bail me out of jail later! _

Matthew heard Germany shout something back at Gilbert, but could not hear what it was. Though, knowing Germany, it was probably something along the lines of, "I'm not going to bail you out of jail at three in the morning!"

Obviously ignoring his brother's warnings of abandonment, Gilbert picked up the phone and quickly said_, "Hey, Matthew, get the snacks ready! I'll be there in a couple of minutes!"_

Silence.

Maybe he should have thought things through before calling Gilbert. Sure he was one of his best, if not his only friend, he doubted Italy will remember who he is by the time the Christmas party arrived. But Gilbert isn't exactly known to be one to give out good advice.

He was so dead.

Perhaps it wasn't too late to call his lawyers and see about making a Will for himself. He wanted to make sure that Mr. Kumajiro went to a good home and not with Prussia. He didn't trust the albino not to try and re-name the polar bear Gilbear. He wasn't sure that Mr. Kumajiro would take kindly to the name. He was sure Gilbert would lose a couple of fingers were he to try that.

He could look at this whole situation as an omen. It could be considered as hint from the universe, as if it were trying to tell him that he was going to die and as a punishment for something that he couldn't remember ever doing, Russia would be the one to kill him. He could just see it: he would arrive at the party with some lame gift for Russia, said man would throw it away and take out his steel pipe. No one would even be paying attention to him and that's why Russia would be able to get away with murder.

"I think I've been watching too much CSI," he wearily thought to himself. Looking at his kitchen, he started working on the snacks for Gilbert. Watching hockey wasn't a bad idea, it would let him forget about his impending doom. And it _was _fun, at times, to hang out with Gilbert, even if waking up in some dingy jail wasn't always on the "Places to visit" list for night. Though, if he landed in jail, he might be able to make it to the Christmas party.

A sudden gloom, washed over him as he thought about the consequences. Russia would be even less merciful in his killing, if Matthew landed himself in jail.

"MATTHEW!"

The sudden shout made the Canadian jump about a foot in the air. He hadn't thought Gilbert would arrive so fast, the idiot must have been speeding again. Germany was sure to be mad when his car was returned to him void of any gasoline. With a shake of his head, Matthew ran to the front of the house before Gilbert decided that kicking the door open was faster than waiting for him to properly open the door.

"Maple! Did you have to bring so much alcohol?" he said as he quickly moved out of the way.

The red-eye man gave him a slight glare, as he stepped away from him, before stomping into the house and making his way towards the sitting room. "You're lucky I even managed to buy this much. In my opinion we don't have enough!"

Matthew resisted the urge to roll his eyes at his best friend. Years of knowing the former nation had taught him that there's _**never **_enough alcohol. He was about to close the front door when Prussia returned from the sitting room and made his way back to the car parked outside the house. The man, it seemed, had bought enough drinks to turn the house into it's own little bar. Leaving Gilbert to set up the game, he went back to the kitchen to get the snacks.

"By the way, I hope you don't mind that I invited someone to come watch the game with us!" Gilbert said with a shout as he slammed the front door shut.

Shocked, Matthew ran into the sitting room, watching Gilbert put away some of the beer in a cooler that he had brought with him. "Did you just say you invited someone to _my _house?"

"Ja!"

"Who?"

"Russia!"

*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*

If he was honest with himself, and he certainty wasn't, things could have gone worse. He could have passed out from the shock of hearing the name of the person that Gilbert had invited. He could have woken up to a cold cloth being placed on his head, as someone tended to the nasty bruise that he could feel had formed near his eye, from where he had hit his head when he passed out. **And **he could have woken up to find Russia hovering over him with a worried expression on his face.

Oh, that's right...He _**did **_pass out when heard who Gilbert had invited. He _**did **_wake up to a cold cloth being placed on his head, as someone tended to the nasty bruise that he could feel had formed near his left eye. _**And **_he did wake up to find _Russia _hovering him with a worried expression on his face.

Seeing the large nation so close to him had caused Matthew to jump and almost crack his skull against the small nightstand near his bed. Only Russia's quick reflexes had kept him from busting his head open, as the man quickly grabbed his arms and pulled him against his own body. The shock of it all had Matthew shaking in Russia's arms. His heart pounding in his chest as he tried to control his breath.

"Is Matvey alright?" Russia's soft voice asked him.

"Y-ye-yeah..Than- wait, what did you say?" Matthew pushed himself away from Russia's grasp to look at the tall man. "What did you call me?" Surely he hadn't just heard Russia calling him by his name, albeit the Russian form of his name, but his name none the less.

"Matvey," Russia slowly said, "that is you name, is it not? Or did that idiot, Prussia, lie to me. If he did, his legs will be broken."

A heavy dark aura that began to emit from the large nation was almost suffocating. Matthew felt as if the walls were closing in on them and the air being squashed out of his lung. His mind barely registered the "kolkolkol" laugh from the other country. In a barely audible voice he said, "No! P-P-Prussia didn't lie!"

"Oh, that's good then," Russia said with a smile. The murderous aura disappearing from the room returning it to it's original feel. "I would hate to get blood all over your nice little house."

"_Maple! How could someone say those sort of things with such a nice smile?"_

Matthew could only laugh nervously at Russia's comment. "How did I get to my room?"

"I carried you," Russia said nonchalantly. Giving Matthew a quick glance he stepped away from the blond and walked towards the door. "I will tell that idiot, Prussia, that you are awake. He kept trying to take your pants off while you were knocked out cold. So I made the pervert stay out in the sitting room."

"Gilbert, you're so dead, I should hit you over the head with my hockey stick!" Matthew murmured to himself.

The violet-eye nation never noticed the blush that graced Matthews face at the knowledge of how he had gotten to his bedroom. He did heard, though, the small threat the blond made to Prussia.

"Matthew?"

Quickly glancing up, Canada saw his best friend standing at his door, hands in the pockets of his jeans. He debated on whether he wanted to hit his friend or ask him the one question that had been bothering him since he woke up. He decided on the latter. "Gilbert, why did you invite him? I thought you hated Russia."

With a slight shrug of his shoulders, Gilbert made his way to Matthew's bed and threw himself next to his friend. "Yeah, I hate the bastard. But he's fun to hang out with when there's a good hockey game on. I didn't know you were so scared of the guy. I don't think I've ever seen anyone get so scared from just hearing his name, that they would pass out. Does he really frighten you so much?"

Suddenly, the stray thread of his covers was the most fascinating thing Matthew had ever seen. He tried not flinch when Gilbert growled and hit him with a pillow.

"Come on! Tell me!" After a few more hits and Canada not saying anything, Gilbert threw the pillow across the room and pushed himself off the bed. "Fine, don't tell your best friend. I'll be down stairs drinking some awesome beer. You can come down when you're down being such a girl."

Giving Matthew one more glare he made his way to the door opening it, just as he was about to leave, his friend finally spoke.

"Promise me you wont laugh?" Matthew said in a small voice.

Gilbert stopped walking and took a step back, closing the door behind him. "I laugh at everything, but I promise I wont laugh at you."

The room was silent for a couple of minutes before Matthew took a deep breath and hugged his knees to his chest. "Has Germany mentioned anything about a 'Secret Santa' the G8 are doing?"

Gilbert scrunched up his face in remembrance, trying to think of any time during the last couple of weeks when Germany has talked about the last G8 meeting. "Bruder hasn't mentioned anything, but Feliciano did, if I recall correctly. Is this what the fuss is about? The 'Secret Santa'?"

Nodding his head Matthew kept his gaze away from Gilbert's. "I have to buy a present for Russia."

A loud snort drew his attention to Gilbert. The idiot was covering his mouth with his hands trying with all his might not to laugh. Seeing the glare that Matthew was sending him, he tried passing off his laughter as a coughing fit. "I'm not laughing," he said.

Still glaring at Prussia, Matthew climbed off his bed and started pushing his friend towards the door.

"Hey! Hey! What the hell do you think you're doing! I wasn't laughing, I swear it!"

"Yes, you were. If you're not going to help me then just leave. Go downstairs and watch the game with Russia."

As he continued to try and kick Gilbert out, there was a small growl just before Gilbert gave a loud yelp. Looking down at the floor, Matthew saw Mr. Kumajiro biting Gilbert's boot, trying to pull the red-eyed nation towards the door. "_ So he's been in here all this time," _Matthew thought to himself. After a couple more minutes of cursing and the small polar bear taking turns biting each of Prussia's feet, Gilbert was sent tumbling down the stairs. Matthew wasn't worried about his friend being hurt. Just as he was closing the door to his bedroom, he heard Gilbert shouting at Russia.

"That beer isn't just for you! I'm the only awesome one who can drink it all!"

Why he ever thought asking Gilbert for help was a good idea he would never know. Looking at the calender that was pinned to his wall, Matthew saw that he only had two more weeks before the party. Perhaps if he waited for Russia to get absolutely drunk, he could ask him what he would like for a present and not have to worry about Russia killing him!

Perhaps Gilbert had indeed helped him.

"I'M SO AWESOME! DID I CALL THAT SHOT OR WHAT? BOW BEFORE YOUR AWESOME MASTER!

Matthew didn't hear what Russia said, but from the loud sound of something breaking, he guessed Gilbert was now his new coffee table. With a small sigh, he picked up Mr. Kumajiro and made his way downstairs.

Maybe he could ask his Papa for help. But he'll make sure to buy a Chastity belt before meeting with the French-man.


	4. Papa, no!

_**Disclaimer- **I only own, my fingers...not Hetalia...not at all. No money is being made from this! _

**A/N - **_It's been a long time since I've updated this. I feel really bad about that. I'm really really really sorry for not updating sooner. Thanks to everyone who has reviewed, faved and put this story on alert, it means the world to me!_

_This has not been beta'd, if you would like to be my beta please send me a PM. Thank you._

_Enjoy!_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 4 - Papa, no!<strong>

The next morning, found Matthew standing outside his papa's house, nervously shifting from one foot to the other. He had gotten very little sleep the night before, his nerves on edge even after Russia had left his house. He hadn't even enjoyed the game out of fear that the larger man somehow knew that his present hadn't been bought yet.

He should have stayed in his room. But then there would have been no one around to keep Gilbert from pushing Russia's buttons and possibly being killed during the first intermission. Russia would've probably only need two minutes of the twenty that were given, just to properly aim at the red-eye man and swig his heavy lead pipe. That would have been gruesome not to mention messy.

Focusing at the matter at hand, Matthew nervously patted his thigh to make sure that the knight's armor he was wearing was still there and hadn't been magically taken off him as soon as he had been close to the Frenchman's home. He was taking no chances this time. Not only was he wearing a "borrowed" armor that he had gotten from Arthur's house, but underneath it, he was also wearing a chastity belt as well.

Picking Mr. Kumajiro from the ground, he took a deep breath and quickly rang the door bell before he lost his nerve.

It took awhile before France opened the door. Of course, all the French-man had to do was look at Matthew's hair to know which of his sons had decided to visit him. Sure, Alfred had nice hair, but it was a tad similar to Arthur's hair, which was all over the place, untamed.

"Mathieu!" he said shouted before making a move to glomp his son.

Matthew had seen this coming and with quick reflexes honed from playing so much hockey, he managed to move a side and into the house. He knew eventually his Papa was going to get his hands on either his shirt or pants, but he wanted to get enough advice for as to what get Russia for the Secret Santa first.

And if he could leave with all of his clothes intact, then he would consider it an early Christmas gift from his Papa.

"So, Mathieu, 'ave you missed your Papa? Iz dat why you 'ave come 'ere today?" Francis said, after closing the door and leading his son to the sitting room.

The Canadian didn't know how to start. Taking a seat on the comfortable sofa he decided to just be upfront about everything so he said,"Well, you see, it has to do with the Secret Santa that's coming up in a couple of days..."

"Say no more, mon cher! Arthur wrapped in green Christmas wrapping will do. And if you can leave him drunk on my bed..."

Matthew quickly shook his head to clear out the images that his Papa was planting. He so did not need to know how kinky his parents were. Knowing how kinky Francis liked things disturbed him enough as it was.

"Papa! It's not for you! I didn't get your name."

"Oh, iz dat so? Well, in dat case, if you do know, please pass along the information."

"Sure, I'll do that...listen...I – I got Russia's name."

The blank look of horror that graced his Papa's face did nothing to make him feel confident about finding a present for the Russian man. If anything, it just fulled his paranoia about how the violet-eye nation was going to kill him. He could practically hear the _kolkolkol _all the way from Russia.

"Russia?"

Nodding his head, Matthew simply grabbed Mr. Kumajiro from the floor and held him close to his chest. The silence in the house was almost suffocating him. He wondered if he should just leave, being the one to break the silence just didn't seem right.

"I suppose you came 'ere for advice on wha' to get him?"

"Yes."

"Well, a nice bottle of Vodka might...but he could get that himself...hmmm."

Matthew sat watching as his Papa tried to think of something that he could get the violet-eye nation. Immediately, tickets to a hockey game were out, and so was Vodka. A new lead pipe was suggested but quickly shot down, since the man did not need two weapons to kill people with.

"I know!" Francis exclaimed excitingly. "Why don't you give him you!"

"I beg your pardon?" Matthew asked with a dead-paned expression.

"Why don't-"

"No."

"But it iz da most-"

"Papa, no! I will not gift myself to Russia!"

"I am only trying to 'elp!" Francis said with a small pout. "After all, there is nothing more romantic than giving yourself to the one you love."

With a small sigh, Matthew stood up and and started pacing around the room. " I never said I loved him. I barely even know him, he's too scary to talk to. Papa, you worked with the man during World War II. Are you telling me you don't know anything about him, even after working with him for so long?"

A far away look clouded Francis' eyes as he thought back to those years. "I was more occupied with trying to make Arthur marry me...such good times."

After a couple of minute of letting Francis reminiscent about the past, Matthew said, "I think I'm going to go home, thanks for the help."

Making sure that nothing had fallen out of his pockets, he made his way to the front door. He guessed he couldn't say that the visit was a complete failure. After all, he did manage to find out what _not _to get Russia as a present.

Just as he was about to step out of the house, he felt two arms wrap around his middle. He had hardly any time to brace himself before they pulled him back into the house.

"Ohonhonhonhonhon ~ where do you think you are going, mon cher?"

"HELP!"

o_o_o_o_o_o_o_o_o_o_o

"Who?"

"Ca-na-da."

"Your jeans are ripped."

With a soft groan, Matthew slowly turned on his back. Every single muscle in his body ached and he was sure he had a couple of bruised ribs. His shirt was nothing more than strips hanging off his arms. The back pockets of his jeans were now gone, leaving two large holes. And he was missing some of the arm pieces of the armor.

He shouldn't had let his guard down, no matter how occupied his Papa seemed. It was only his idea of wearing an armor and chastity belt, that probably saved him.

After he had gotten tired of chasing Matthew, Francis had told him to expect a call in the next couple of hours. It seemed that the French-man had formed a plan while trying to get Matthew's clothes off. The Canadian just hoped that the plan didn't involved Prussia and Spain, the last thing he needed was for the Bad Touch Trio to gang up on him. Best friend or not, Prussia would side with Francis faster than the speed of light.

The sound of his phone ringing forced Matthew to sit up and reach for the phone that was on top of the couch.

"Hello?"

_"Bonsoir, mon cher! Meet me at the conference building in two hours! Make sure to wear something warm!"_

Silence.

He was starting to hate not being able to say "bye" to anyone.

Still on the floor of his sitting room, he began to take off his shoes. He didn't want to meet with his Papa for the second time that day, but when Francis told you to be somewhere, maple help you, you better be there.

After getting more than half of the armor off, he started to make his way upstairs for a shower, Matthew wondered why he was meeting with his Papa at the conference building. He had a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach and years of hanging with Prussia have taught him to listen to that gut feeling.

o_o_o_o_o_o_o_o_o_o_o

He needed to start listening to his gut feeling. If he did, random nights in dingy jail cells could be avoided.

"Note to self: Listening to your gut can help you avoid blind dates with Russia..."

Maple leaf...

* * *

><p><strong>Please review! I love hearing your opinions! <strong>


	5. From France, with love!

_Disclaimer - I do not own anything that you see here. Not even my socks..._

_A/N - It's another update! Shall we see what our beloved Francis has in store for the poor and fragile Matthew? Mwahahahahahahaha!_

_A big thank you to my new beta, Francesca Monterone! With her help, this chapter is now safe for the human eyes._

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 5 – <em>From France, with love!<em>**

Being invisible unfortunately makes for very awkward silences when people finally notice you're there.

If someone had given him a toonie for every one of those moments, Matthew would have been a very, very, rich man. But since no one could remember him long enough to finish a conversation with him, there was no one who could give him that toonie.

Looking down at his hands that rested on his lap, the only thought that crossed his mind was, _"I love my Papa and I will not kill him. I love my Papa and I will not kill him...I'm so going to kill him."_

_**Flashback-**_

He had arrived at the conference building almost thirty minutes early. Walking towards the door, Matthew was slightly surprised to find that it wasn't locked. _'There must be some staff getting an early start on cleaning and getting the building ready for the Christmas party.'_

It wouldn't have surprise him to learn that Germany had told the staff to do so. The man was a perfectionist and would want everything to be in order for the party. Matthew couldn't think of anyone else making the preparations. Sure, Arthur was quite organized, but he doubted that any work would get done since the Brit spent most of his time fending off Francis and making sure that Alfred wasn't doing anything stupid.

Walking in, the shy Canadian made his way to the conference room where all of the G8 meetings were held. Slowly, opening the door, he noticed that no one was in there. Absolutely no one. There wasn't any staff cleaning or putting up any decorations. In fact, there were no decorations to be seen anywhere, the room looked just as it had the last time they had had their meeting. Looking at the bare room made him feel uncomfortable at being there all by himself. It could have been another plan of Francis to ambush him and have his wicked way with him.

Making his way to stand at the end of the conference table, he saw that there was an envelope with his name on it. Gingerly picking it up, he took a deep breath before opening it and taking out the letter to read.

_Mathieu,_

_If you're reading this then it means that you decided to listen to your Papa for once and that I don't have to call Gilbert for reinforcements. _

_This morning you came to my house asking for help so you could find Russia a present that wouldn't get you killed. I was heart-broken at the fact that I could not help you (not to mention giving you a good-bye kiss). So, as I sat at home drinking a most delightful glass of _Blanc de blancs, _I came about an epiphany! _

_Which brings us to the matter at hand. I will not be joining you this evening._

_Russia will._

_You're welcome._

_From France, with love!_

Matthew read the letter four more times. Trying to figure out where the punch line was because this was obviously some sick joke. But even after taking his glasses off to clean, there was no mistaking what had been written.

He was going to spend another afternoon with Russia. And this time, it would be just the two of them.

Making up his mind, Matthew stuffed the letter into his coat pocket and ran for the door. There was no way he was going to go through with this. He didn't even care if Russia beat France up for "lying" him. He just couldn't do it. There was nothing in the world that would convince him to hang out with Russia.

Except, running head on into said man.

**End of Flashback**

So, there he was. Sitting across from the one person who scared him more than a drunk Francis ever would.

After Russia had figured out that Matthew was _not _Alfred, he had taken his hand and dragged him out to his car so they could make it in time for the dinner reservation that Francis had apparently made for them. He shuddered to think what else Francis had planned for them.

He had to admit it, though, the restaurant wasn't bad at all. It was nothing fancy, but it also wasn't some rundown shack with a cook who looked like he would be ready to kill anyone who didn't pay their bill. The only thing that made him uncomfortable was the fact that it had been almost an hour since they had arrived and neither of them had said a word to one another. They had both eaten their meal in absolute silence, not even asking if what they had ordered was good or not.

Matthew briefly wondered if Russia had forgotten that he was having dinner with someone. It wouldn't be the first time something like that had happened. Arthur had done it once, he had asked Matthew to meet him for dinner so they could discuss some business problems. Three hours later, had found Matthew trying to explain to the restaurant manager that he wasn't crazy and the he had been waiting for someone. Not one of his fondest memories.

Looking back up from his lap, he was taken aback when he saw that Russia was staring at him. Yes, he was definitely staring at him and not through him, as if he wasn't there. The Russian's violet eyes locked on to his, Matthew tried to hold the gaze, but found he couldn't. Those eyes seemed so intense, he couldn't help but fight the slight blush that was threatening grace his cheeks.

"Uhm...Is there something on my face?" he asked. Why else would Russia be staring at him? There was probably tomato sauce on his face from the delicious pasta he had ordered.

"No."

"Oh."

"Are you done?" Russia asked him even though he was already calling for the waiter to bring them their bill.

"Yeah, it...it was delicious, wasn't it?"

Russia didn't answer and proceeded to pay for their meal. Matthew was about to protest about it when Russia said with a smile, "France said he would pay me back. All I have to do is to take you to dinner and a movie. If he does not, I will break his bones."

_'Yup, he's totally not psychotic at all.'_

Matthew nervously laughed but quickly stopped at the serious look that Russia was giving him. "Sorry," he squeaked. He would consider it a miracle if he managed to survive the night. He decided that after he got home and hugged the life out of Mr. Kumajiro, he was going to have a very long and strict talk with Francis...over the telephone.

Their talk would most likely be about different ways he could have helped Matthew and not put his life in danger. After all, he didn't know many people who could be around Russia without suffering some sort of long term injury. Just because the man hadn't attacked him yet, it didn't mean that he would not take out his lead pipe at some point and beat him over the head with it. The Russian probably didn't even need the pipe to kill him. He could just punch him across the room and that would be the end of Matthew Williams.

A large hand grasping his should nearly made him jump out of his skin. Turning around, he saw that Russia was already standing behind him with his coat over his arm. "We need to leave now, if we want to make it to the movies on time," the taller man said.

Nodding, Matthew tossed his napkin onto the table and grabbed his jacket from the back of the chair. Following Russia out of the building and into the cold winter night, he couldn't help but think that he _was _on a date with Russia. Speeding up to catch up to the man, he took a deep breath and asked, "So, what movie are we going to see?"

"I don't care," Russia said in a bored tone. "As long as someone dies, I'm good with watching whatever."

_'How romantic,' _Matthew thought as they continued to walk. '_...Wait...what did I just say?'_

_**PLEASE REVIEW! **  
><em>


	6. Parental Guidance

_**Disclaimer- I do not own Hetalia or any of its characters. I'm a poor college student just trying to make meets end. **_

_A/N - Hey an update! And to make it up to you guys it's an extra long update. Hope you enjoy it, I'll just go back to my little corner and continue writing. _

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 6- Parental Guidance<strong>

It wasn't his first time in a jail cell. Don't judge too quickly though, Matthew isn't someone who likes to go out and find trouble. Trouble usually finds him. Trouble usually goes by the name of Gilbert. This time though, trouble went by a different name, one that is unfortunately, his brother's. Alfred. He had no wishes though to know how it was that his brother found out about the date. After all, there was only one person who knew where he was going and that was his Papa.

He just wished Alfred hadn't taunted Russia into a fist fight. Especially when he had been having such a good time with the large man.

It seemed that Russia had thought him to be Alfred in disguise, but at some point he had realized that he was indeed spending time with Canada and not the American idiot(Russia had confessed this as they were getting their snacks). After that, the night had gone smoothly...that was, until Alfred really did show up. America had taunted Russia and at some point had completely forgotten that his brother was there, thus making fun of him too. That had been the last straw for Matthew, who had handed Mr Kumajiro to a scared and confused employee before calmly walking up to Alfred and punching him straight in the face. From there, all hell had broken loose. The cops had been called and before he knew it, all three of them had been placed in separate jail cells.

Matthew smiled slightly as he recalled how the officers had looked when they had realized that Russia was one of the people they had to arrest. Lucky for them, the large nation had decided he had enough and had walked himself to one of the police cars leaving the officers to look after him with confused stares. It didn't last long though as Alfred was putting up quite a fight. Matthew had simply told his brother to stop being an idiot and had followed Russia's example and made his way to one of the police vehicles. Well, he had tried to, but Alfred being Alfred had pushed his buttons and before Matthew knew what he was doing, the police were trying to separate both brothers to keep them from killing each other.

"Big brudder!"

'Big brother? Who is that?' Matthew wondered.

"Natalia!" Matthew couldn't help but worry at the high pitch that Russia's voice took. He sounded almost, afraid. Who was this woman? He tried to recall if there was anyone he knew named Natalia. There wasn't much he knew about Russia, since he was too scared of the man he didn't want to know anything about him.

"She's his sister. Bit on the crazy side, but then again, his whole family is like that."

Matthew turned to see Alfred using a spoon to make a hole in the wall in order to communicate. Making sure that none of the guards noticed them, Matthew made his way to the hole. "What do you mean? Is she mentally unstable?"

"Seriously bro', are you stupid or what? That whole family has issues."

Rolling his eyes, Matthew said in the most sarcastic tone he could, "Have you met our parents?"

"Yes, but we love them! No one loves Russia or his sisters. Though Ukraine does have some big knockers. Wouldn't mind moto-"

"Alfred!" Matthew said in a scolding tone.

"What?! It's true!"

"I don't care. It's disrespectful! I've met Katyusha, and she's absolutely lovely. I didn't know she was Russia's sister though."

There was a moment of silence as the two of them listened to the other siblings conversation.

"But you cannot stay here, Big Brudder!" Natalia sounded very upset. Matthew wondered why Russia did not want to leave. He couldn't well imagine their cells to be very comfortable to the Russian man. He couldn't hear the response, but judging from Natalia's shriek, it hadn't been the right one.

"Now listen here, Big Brudder, you will come home. You will allow me to take care of you and you will MARRY ME!"

"But I don't want to!" Russia protested, His voice laced with fear. Matthew didn't blame him, he would be scared too if Alfred suddenly wanted to marry him.

"My, my, still as beautiful as ever, I see," came a smooth and baritone voice.

"Papa!"

"Shut it, you French idiot."

The Frenchman simply laughed it off as he made his way down the hall. When he reached Matthew's cell, the young man saw that his Papa wasn't alone. "Uhm...hi dad."

Arthur simply stared at his younger son with a look of disappointment. Matthew knew there was no point in trying to explain to his father that it had all been Alfred's fault.

"Mon chere, that's Mathieu, not Alfred," Francis said as he came to stand next to Alfred's cell.

"I should have known," Matthew thought to himself. "Papa seems to be the only one who can tell us apart."

"Oh - Sorry about that, Matthew," said a flustered Arthur as he made his way to Alfred's cell.

Matthew simply shook his head and lead his head against the wall. It had been a long day and all he wanted to do was find Mr Kutumaro, go home and never leave the safe of it. He listened though as his parents scolded Alfred for causing trouble to the public. He would be forced to apologize to the manager of the theater and pay for any damage he caused. Not once was an apology to Matthew mentioned, but he didn't care. Matthew knew that his brother would never apologize for ruining his night.

It took three hours for his parents to fill out all the paperwork and pay the fine before the two brothers had been released. As they walked out of their cells, Matthew noticed that at some point, Russia had left. He wondered if Natalia had taken her brother home or if the large nation had ditched his sister as soon as he was out of the building. Since his car was still at the conference building he had asked for a lift home. Alfred had simply jumped in the car and said that he had no money for a taxi and had left his car at home. Apparently, he had taken public transportation to get to where Matthew and Russia were. Fortunately, neither parent nation cared about having to take their children to their respective home. It seemed that Arthur was not done scolding his eldest.

"Honestly, Alfred, why can't you be more like your brother?" the Britt asked as he started to drive towards Alfred's home since it was closer.

"No offence or anything, bro', but you're a whip. Why would I want to be like that?"

"Then who waz it dat punched you in your lovely face, mon petit?"

Apparently someone had told them what had happened during the fight. Matthew simply turned to look out his window as Alfred made up a wild story about fifty men trying to take him down. Honestly, if he wasn't so tired he might be tempted to punch his brother again. It was tempting, so very tempting. But right now, he was more worried about finding his polar bear. He felt bad for abandoning him at the movies like that.

"Uhm, would it be okay if we drove by the movies after we drop Alfred off? I left Mr Kamajoro there with one of the employees," he softly asked.

No one seemed to hear him, as Alfred was still arguing with Arthur. It seemed like he was just going to have to hire a taxi as soon as he got home to take him to the theater. He didn't want to wait until morning to find his bear.

"Who?"

Quickly look up, he saw that his Papa was holding the small bear in his lap. Relief spread through his body at the knowledge that his Papa had rescued Mr Kimajino. The bear was asleep which was amazing considering all the noise that Alfred and Arthur were making with their argument. Matthew saw his Papa clear his throat, a clear sign that he was about to talk. He wondered what the man was up to.

"So, Mathieu, did you get an idea for a present for Russia while you were on your date wiz him?"

The silence in the car was simply amazing. It seemed like even the car had stopped running. He could see Arthur's terrified eyes staring at him from the rear view mirror and sense how stiff Alfred had gone.

"Matthew?" Arthur asked in a slow and nervous tone. "What's the frog talking about? What present? Is this why you were with that man?"

"Yeah, bro', what's Frenchy talking about?"

"Alfred, you were right there with me! Remember? I got Russia's name for the Secret Santa!" He wanted to shout. Oh how he wanted to, but he was worn out and could only put anger into his words.

His brother though was already playing with his phone and texting his buddies, no doubt telling them he just took on an army. The car fell into a calm silence but every so often he would catch the worried glances that Arthur would throw at him. It was almost an hour more before Alfred was safely dropped off at his house, with a warning from both Arthur and Francis to keep out of trouble. Matthew didn't say anything to his brother, still too angry with him to even say good-bye. It wasn't as if it mattered anyhow, Alfred simply got out of the car saying, "Later, dudes!" and ran into the house. It was no wonder some of the other nations couldn't stand him.

It was a good twenty minutes later when Arthur finally spoke up.

"Matthew, did you really pick out Russia's name for the Secret Santa?" It was one of the few times Matthew remembers the Britt being concern for him. The attention had usually fallen on Alfred.

"Yes." He wasn't about to give out more information than that. If his dad wanted to help, then he'll kindly accept it. But if he was going to be like the others and just look at him with sympathy, then he didn't want to hear it.

His small little house had never seemed as welcoming as it did now. When the car finally pulled up to the driveway, Matthew quickly jumped out and took Mr Kumajiro from his nestling spot on Francis' arms. With a quick thank you and goodbye, he almost ran to the front door nearly dropping his keys as he did so.

"Matthew!"

All he wanted was to be alone, why didn't they just drive away as soon as they dropped him off and saw that he made it to the front door.

"Yes?" He truly was too polite to tell people to-well- to tell people to stuff it.

Arthur seemed as he was debating whether or not to say anything but he finally got up the courage and said, "Talk to him."

He loved his parents, he truly did. But there were one too many times when neither one them made any sense what-so-ever. "If you're talking about Alfred-"

"Not your brother. Good god, not him. For right now, stay away from him and don't let him know what you're going to be up to." Matthew looked on confused as he saw how uncomfortable the conversation was making Arthur. "I meant Ivan-Russia- talk to him. He's not a bad chap, just misunderstood. You'll learn that he has more likes; other than beating people to a pulp and drinking Vodka." With that he quickly pulled his youngest into a brief hug and made a beeline back to the car.

He just didn't know what to think of his family anymore. He was at least greatfull to Arthur for trying to help him. He had already been planning on calling Russia anyway. But that would have to wait until later the next day. At the moment all Matthew wanted to do was to go to sleep and pretend that the world didn't exist. After taking a long warm shower to get the dingy stink of jail off him, Matthew dressed in his favorite pyjamas and before his head even hit the pillow he was gone to the world.

The next day Matthew spend most of the morning in bed. The events of the previous day had exhausted him so much he allowed himself a lie in. Something he had not done in a very long time. He was just thankful there was no meetings today that required him to be there. Which suited him just fine because now, after what happened yesterday, he was more determined than ever to find a present for Russia.

When his growling stomach became too much to ignore, Matthew forced himself to get out of bed and start his day right with a tasty lunch. After completing his morning ritual, he made his way to the kitchen. If he was going to work on finding a present for Russia, he would need the energy for it. He was glad Francis was not there to witness the meal he had prepared himself. A simple bacon and turkey sandwich, with some potato crisp, some fruit and a glass of milk. It wasn't fancy by any means, but it was better than going out and buying junk food.

As he ate his meal he pondered on what to do about the present. He hadn't learned much about the man on their date last night. Only that he hated Alfred, but so did many of the other nations. He had already asked Italy and his papa on what to go t Russia, but neither one of them could help him. The more he thought about it the more simple the issue seemed.

"That's it! Katyusha!" Who best to ask than his sisters? Though something told him to stay away from Natalia. He had a sneeky feeling that if he were to ask her for help he wouldn't live to see another day.

Now that he had a plan, he was more confident than ever that he would find the perfect present for Russia.

**Please review! Thanks for reading! **


End file.
